


He Who Hunts Alone

by JessicaPendragon



Series: Canon Keela Lavellan [34]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family, Papa Solas, Solavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are everything he has ever wanted. (written especially for father’s day and because I am a horrible person)</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Who Hunts Alone

He sniffs at the air and catches their scent in the wind. The smells of the forest pervade his senses, of halla, hare and root, but he would find them anywhere. He stands still, ears swiveling for the slightest sound, claws dug into the ground to feel tell-tale vibrations. And then he hears it, a call soft and high, and it stirs within. 

Feet swift and sure carry him through the undergrowth and he is but a black blur amongst the endless green. His prey’s voice grows louder, unafraid and unaware of what stalks it through the trees. As he peers through leaves and twigs, he catches sight of what he has been searching for.

A child plays in a shallow stream, splashing and stamping and smiling. Laughter, the sound that drew him near, bubbles from her mouth as she plops a rock back into the clear water and it splashes cool against her cheek. A woman sits close by, propped up by pillows and stone, and watches with amusement. There is a book half finished and half remembered resting atop her swollen stomach and he can already hear the heartbeat pumping steady inside. 

They would make a fine feast for any predator.

He steps from the foliage and leaves crunch beneath his paws. The woman turns at the sound and for a moment panic stutters across her features. It passes as her eyes take him in, recognize what he truly is, and her mouth opens with a smile.

A high pitched squeal shatters the calm as the girl spots the intruder. She races forward and he moves in a blur. His body changes, stretches, shifts, and when they collide he embraces her not with claw and teeth, but with welcoming arms and a gentle kiss.

“Dada,” she says and his heart fills with warmth.

“Daughter,” he replies. Her little hands tug at his and he is unable to resist as she pulls him towards the shore. With babbling words and giddy enthusiasm she shows him her latest creation, a teetering structure built from river rocks, and mud and he tells her it is a fine house indeed.

“It’s Skyhold!” Bright eyes turn indignant and lips sour. It is a look he has seen on her mother’s face countless times and he tries to keep his own neutral at her displeasure. 

“Of course, forgive me.” Her anger lasts a fleeting moment as her attention drifts towards butterflies fluttering nearby. For the next hour he follows her like an obedient hound, answering her endless questions, asking ones of his own. They turn over rocks in search of creatures and braid the long stems of flowers into crowns. He comforts her tears when her attempt crumples and places his own atop her raven hair. 

When dirty fingers begin to rub into tired eyes, he lifts her up and carries her to the comfort of blankets and her mother’s side. He sits back to watch as she combs graceful fingers through their child’s hair. A wordless melody slips through closed lips and hangs in the air around them and it is a blanket that slowly tucks the girl to sleep. 

Sunlight filters through the canopy and cast its light upon everything he adores in this world. He cannot believe this moment exists, that the shadows of his past could be overcome with such jubilant results. There is much he deserves and it is not this happiness blooming inside.

A hiss leaves his lover’s lips. He leans forward, concerned, as she places a palm against her growing belly. 

“I fear this one is more beast than child,” she says with a smirk and his fear abates. “This is all your doing.”

“I cannot take full credit for this predicament,” he says and her laugh is quiet not to disturb the small thing sleeping at her side. She grabs his hand and plants it where hers once rested. He feels the life kicking within, squirming with such strength already, and he feels overwhelmed by the fortune that’s befallen him.

Their fingers interlock and linger as he presses a kiss into her mouth. When he moves to pull away her grasp into his tunic keeps him close and he has no issue with tasting her lips for as long she’d like. He cannot count the number of kisses they’ve shared. The way she draws his lower lip into her mouth is a familiar sensation, yet it still captures him every time. His head is spinning when they finally drift apart and she lets out a content sigh in return.

He glances at them. The small bundle of their daughter, so much like her mother and yet possessing a fire unique and beautiful on its own. The woman who, despite every reason to turn away, remains at his side and loves him. Loves the wolf, the fallen god, the elf beneath it all. These two lives he knows and the one he has yet to meet but cherishes all the same.

He brings her hand to his face, kissing the green line of power on her palm, before placing it against his cheek. “Ar lath ma,” he says and feels it in every fiber that makes him the unworthy creature he is.

He expects her to grin, to return the affection with some words of her own. Instead her features turn disappointed, her eyes shimmering with tears. The reaction freezes the breath in his lungs and fills him with dread.

“Then why did you leave?” Her voice is broken and the world shatters around him. 

Solas wakes with a gasp and shoots from his bedroll. Eyes scan the area, take in the dwindling embers of a fire and the dark splotches of shapes of the forest beyond, but the dream’s final images burn like the sun against his vision. 

He bends over himself and shoves the heels of his hands into his eyes until he can no longer see her face or hear the betrayal laced in her words. When he finally pulls his hands away, they are wet with his misery. He will find no more relief in the Fade for even in that place of solace he can no longer escape her memory.

Trembling arms gather up his scarce belongings and shove them into his pack. He leans upon his staff as he stands and kicks dirt into the dim flames. For just a moment, he allows himself to linger within the lie. The precious trill of young laughter, the touch of life stirring, the taste of her smile. All the things he began to want since the moment he fell under her spell, but knew could never be his. He lets them burst inside until he takes a deep breath and snuffs them out like the embers of his fire.

That was never a life meant for a monster like him. It was only a dream. 


End file.
